The Pain Within
by Idiocy-Is-My-Specialty
Summary: For years, Jazmine has suffered. She finally breaks away from her mentally unstable father, into a world of freedom, until she was dragged in to a world of darkness and magic. Now she must join a unique group of Shadowhunters to defeat a man know as the Magister. One must pay the utimate price for the survial of the Shadow World. Will they succeed or fail? Set in 2007 (modern).


**Okay, this is my first attempt at a fanfic, EVER! So I hope you enjoy, and don't judge if it sucks ass. **

"You're a disgust to my family! a disgust to every normal person that has ever walked on the very face of this Earth!" The man yelled to the girl, Jazmine. Her soft blond hair fell over her face as she bowed her head in shame kneeling at the mans feet. The man pulled his fist back to punch her, "father, please be reasonable." Jazmine said. "That's Mr Knight to you, you are no child of mine!" he shouted before releasing his fist to her ribs. "You are lucky I still let you live here, if _she_ hadn't asked me to keep you before _she_ died you would have been on the streets years ago!" he yelled, he then slapped her face then proceeded to take a swig of his drink, kick the girl in the side and slapped her hard again and left.

Jazmine laid there, contemplating what just happened, he always said she was worthless and abnormal, but she never really understood why. Once the pain subsided, she dragged herself to her room and into the bathroom to assess her injuries.

The first thing she noticed was the long, ugly scar that trails across her stomach and up to her shoulder. That was when she learned that mouthing off to a drunken, aggravated and abusive lawyer, was not a thing to do.

Overall the none of her injuries were serious, just some bruised ribs, a spit lip and a bruised cheek, an addition to the one invading the other side.

She made her way into the shower and cleaned herself up, and tightly wrapped a bandage around her ribs, covering many other scars and bruises, then headed off to bed.

School. Jazmine hated it. Not because of the work, but because she was jealous. Jealous of the girls who wore shorts and short-sleeved shirts. She had no choice but to wear long-sleeved shirts with her uniform shirt over the top of it along with paint splattered, discoloured jeans because of the scars and bruises she had on her arms and legs, the teachers occasionally saw them, but she managed to make a believable excuse like , her being clumsy ( which was not a lie, she was, indeed, clumsy) and that when she was younger she fell through a glass window, slicing her arms up. The teachers would back off, but very hesitantly. The obvious bruises on her face raised more questions, she shrugged them off and said 'oh, I just ran into a door'  
She hoped they believed her, but she had the feeling they didn't.

Today was the day everyone dreaded, end of year report cards. In period 4 (last lesson of the day)teachers would hand out the reports at a parade in the hall, after a painful ten minutes of name calling, she received her much-anticipated report.

She new, but hoped, she did well, she put so much time and effort into so many of her exams and assignment, even when she her brain was dysfunctional.

She understood that parents were a little disappointed when their child failed a subject, but to get a B and be violently beaten was unfair.

Jazmine decided to wait till she arrived home to open her report. After a long 4 kilometre walk home, she felt it was finally time to read it.

She saw the page littered with A's all except 2, Maths and Biology: B

_Crap _she thought. Perhaps she could hide it, or even burn it and say she lost it, but she knew, either way it would end the same.

An hour and a half later, she found herself wondering the streets of her town, deciding what she would do. It wasn't until it started raining she realized she had been out for two and a half hours.

She knew she couldn't handle another beating. She was very fragile. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew she would break, not physically, but emotionally, she was a fine piece of china, balancing half off a table, one more hit, she would fall and shatter.

Down the road from her home, she knew what she would have to do. She had to leave the somewhat luxurious home she lived in, and start a life somewhere else, away from abusive fathers, a life where she could live without fear.

And that she did.

**Okay, so, what did ya think?! Please review! creative criticism welcome, as well as flaming, if you must. So I should have the next chapter up soon ish :) **

**Thanks!**

**REVIEW!**


End file.
